A Fruit Throwing Escapade
by J.C Cainstone
Summary: Eponine is adamant to protect Marius when Valjean walks in, about to find him and Cosette embracing. She turns to fruit. She never had been one for five portions a day. No OOCness, based on the musical. Disclaimer: I own nothing, rating just to be safe.


I grin as he walks past. That grin slips as he glances unseeingly through me. That grin slips into a grimace as he runs up to _her _and throws his arms around her waist. I wonder if her Daddy will approve. I consider telling him. Then I reconsider. Marius wouldn't exactly thank me if I did. Not that Marius would spare the breath for thanking me for anything. I'm not exactly up to his level. Well, we're friends, of sorts, but he doesn't see me as I see him. I'm just that annoying little girl who knocks his books out of his hands and pretends to be clever. Although, I did bring those two together, that's got to stand for something.

Ugh, they're kissing now.

I avert my gaze and stroll up to a nearby fruit stand. Not that I can afford fruit, mind you, but it's nice to appear that I could if I wanted to. Gosh, it looks like they're trying to suck each other's faces off. Daddy really wouldn't approve. The fruit stand owner catches my gaze and smirks, eyebrows raised; I smile ruefully back, avoiding showing my teeth. What's left of them, anyway.

Finally! They break apart and take to smiling soppily at each other. I wouldn't be surprised if she stayed like that all day. I wouldn't object if it were me. I doubt anyone would, although I'm bound to be a little biased. I'm the one who's madly in love with him, after all. No. It's not love…it's just an…obsession. It'll go away soon enough, I've had them before. Like that time Cosette taught herself to read, I tried neurotically for months, but never got anywhere, doubt I ever will.

Hmph, they're still all cuddled up together. Wish I could have someone hold me that close; it's so cold, even with this big coat I'm wearing. Oh well, I'll have to keep moving. Although, I don't want him out of my sight, God knows what'd happen to him. Last time I left, he joined a bunch of students and started waving red flags. If that's not a way to get shot, I don't know what is.

A man walks into view. A stocky man with greying hair, a big beard and a rather large suit shrouding his body, he looks like he's searching for something. Or someone. Cosette! It must be her father! I can't let him see Marius, he'll be so angry if he does! Oh, what to do…what to do…?

I glance down at the stall beside me. Plenty of fruit there. Would the man honestly miss a couple of oranges? Well, I haven't exactly got time to think, if he sees Marius and Cosette all huddled up like that, he won't take to Marius kindly. I grab as many fruits as I can, loading my pockets up with them, praying all the while that he won't see Marius. Then I run, pelting the fruit at him. I know I'll pay for it later. I know this is probably illegal. And I most definitely know from the expression on Cosette's father's face that he is not happy. But I have to do it. Marius will get into trouble if I don't.

Everybody is looking at me, officers from so many directions are charging at me, but I mustn't stop. Marius might not have gotten away yet. Then the officers grab me and I have to stop. I steal a glance back to where Marius was standing. He's gone. Oh, thank God, he got away! But now I'm left. Alone. With a dozen officers (not that I can count, I just heard that phrase before) still holding my arms. Them and a fruit-coated, disapproving old man in front of me.

"I'm…sorry…?" I mutter, knowing full well it won't make any difference.

"That's quite alright, would you care to explain your actions, Mademoiselle?" Cosette's father answers in a deep voice. He thinks it's alright? Is he mad? Still, I'm willing to play along…

"I don't think I can…there's a good reason, Monsieur, but I can't tell it to you," I reply, trembling - half from cold, half from fear. And there was a good reason. If Marius wasn't enough, what was?

"Ah yes, quite understandable. Officers, if you would release this young lady, she looks quite scared enough already."

He's letting me go? But…I…attacked him…he surely isn't just letting me go, is he? Oh, Hell, no…he couldn't possibly want payment for this, could he? He lets me go, if I do something for him. Something I'd rather avoid doing. Something any girl, well, apart from those prostitutes that work round the corner, would rather avoid doing.

"Monsieur, we have to object," an officer with a rather large moustache tells him. "This wretch here just pelted you with fruit that is, quite frankly, not at its best, and you expect me to let her get away with it? Well, I can't, this little whore is going straight to Javert!"

"I'm not a whore!" I cry at the same time as the man squeaks,

"Javert?!"

"Yes, Javert," the officer confirms with a sharp glare.

"Monsieur, I must insist that you let this girl go. There is no need to get Javert involved, we were friends once, he wouldn't wish to see me in such distress!"

"Is that so? Then you won't mind if I share your name with him, will you?"

Cosette's father glances away for endless moments. It's like he's having an inward battle with himself. Why, though? Surely his name wouldn't matter if he were friends with that bastard, Javert. Me and him have a history, you see. We've never exactly _liked _each other. Scratch that, I despise him, he despises me. I'm the scum of the earth, the very thing he's trying to eliminate, and he's my opponent. If I die, he wins, if I live, he loses. That's half the reason I stay alive – I'm not a big fan of losing. Especially not in this instance. But, basically, he's permanently trying to get me and my family in prison.

Eventually, Cosette's old man seems to break out of the thought, glancing between the officers and me with his piercing blue eyes. He frowns, then sighs, then swallows. C'mon, old man! I need an answer, here! My fate's in your over-manicured hands and it's not happy being there.

"My name is Jean Valjean," he eventually says, his eyes far too troubled for my liking.

The officers exchange glances, then release me. I fall to the cobbled street, not realising how much weight I'd put on them. I stand, rubbing my arms, to watch the officers charging off into the distance. I wonder what made them to eager to leave. I sniff, wrapping my coat tighter around my body, just realising how freezing it is. I look up and noticed Jean Valjean still looking at me in a scrutinising manner. My face crumples as I realise what he's waiting for.

"Look, Monsieur, I appreciate all your help, but may I go now, please?" I beg.

"Of course you can, but may I ask your name first?"

"Eponine," I reply tentatively.

"Just Eponine?"

"No, but my father wouldn't appreciate me using my surname in public."

"I see. Well, it was nice meeting you, Mademoiselle Eponine, best of luck with future fruit-throwing escapades," he nods, tipping his hat before striding off down the street.

I glance behind me. The crowd that had gathered was dispersing. I sighed and grinned sheepishly at the fruit stall owner whose stock I had stolen. By the look on his face, I guess this would be a good a time as any to run. So I do.


End file.
